


not even the greatest artworks compare to you

by strawbbylino



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art Show Au, Art show, Han Jisung | Han is Oblivious, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Han Jisung | Han is a Sweetheart, Jisung is a soft bean who likes art, Jisung rambles and its cute, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is a Sweetheart, M/M, Minho doesnt tell Jisung hes the artist oop, Minho is the artist, Pre-Relationship, chan is the one who gave him the ticket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22193959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawbbylino/pseuds/strawbbylino
Summary: Jisung goes to an art show and accidentally rambles about his love of the art pieces to the artist - a very handsome boy who finds his rambles endearing.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 9
Kudos: 305





	not even the greatest artworks compare to you

Jisung carefully pushed his glasses up on his nose, shivering against the cold wind that bit at his cheeks, turning them red as he grinned widely towards the huge building in front of him. 

Silently he squealed, nearly squishing the ticket in his hand as his eyes landed on the beautiful stained glass windows that cast rainbows on the sidewalk in front of him. He beamed, ignoring the strange looks he received from those around him, understandable confusion on their faces as they watched a young adult nearly wet his pants in excitement to go into a museum. 

But it wasn't just any museum. It was an  _ art museum _ . And Han Jisung was nothing but an art glutton even though he was a music student. 

Besides,  _ The Reflection _ , the newest art exhibit that had caught his eye, was currently in the museum. He didn’t know much about the artist apart from the fact he was some prodigy painter that created only masterpieces, his works hung in all the great art museums of the world. 

He had seen photos of their art online and Jisung will admit that he might have cried a few times looking at the beautiful pieces, scaring his roommates and friends who simply just didn’t understand the pure  _ emotion  _ that the artist depicted through his paint strokes. 

It was like Jisung was looking into the artist’s deepest thoughts and feelings - and that was reflected through a screen. 

He quickly walked inside the museum, looking around in awe at everything as he joined the lineup of people waiting to get inside the exhibits. 

Jisung bit this lip, shifting uncomfortably as he stood behind the ground of, well,  _ snooty _ , people that stood in front of him. They all looked classy and rich like they fit in and here Jisung stood in his faded jeans and black hoodie, blue hair messy and falling over his eyes. He looked down at his dirty converse, a fine blush covering his cheeks as he handed the attendant his ticket. 

But all feelings of discomfort faded as soon as he stepped inside the actual exhibit. 

His heart pounded, jaw-dropping as he took in the beautiful paintings all around him. He barely noticed as he stumbled closer to one that caught his eye. 

His eyes raked over the smooth strokes painted in watercolour and ink. He took in the painting and saw it for what it was -  _ desperation, fear, longing _ \- and was left in amazement. 

How could it be so simple for someone to paint something so beautiful with such emotions attached? The artist was incredibly gifted Jisung had to admit, wanting to reach out and trace the paint strokes but holding himself back. 

“It’s quite nice, isn’t it?” A soft voice startled him, Jisung shooting back from the painting to look to the side, a  _ very handsome  _ boy around his age standing next to him with a soft smile. 

Jisung blushed, “It‘s...it’s wonderful.” The boy smiled again, not saying anything in favour of straightening his back, hands clasped behind his back as he looked at the artwork in front of him carefully. 

Jisung couldn’t help himself, softly speaking to the boy next to him, “The pure emotion that the artist manages to pull from simple paint strokes is outstanding - it’s like I’m with them at the moment, watching as they painted it. I’ve never seen anything like it before, the combo of black ink against the soft colours, it’s so eye-catching, yet so pleasing.”

The boy hummed in agreement, eyes looking over the painting before he let his gaze fall onto Jisung, who blushed again. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I rambled-” Jisung fumbled with his words, cursing himself and wanting nothing more than to bury his face in his scarf and die. 

Death would be so much preferable compared to the pain of embarrassing himself in front of someone attractive. 

The boy giggled softly and Jisung nearly swooned. Was that a giggle from the heavens? Or was he hearing things? 

“No no, I quite enjoyed your thoughts on it,” the boy replied before gesturing towards the next one. “What about this one?” 

Jisung swallowed, cautiously letting his eyes wander over the painting. This one held a different emotion. Deep reds and blues mixed together highlighted in pink ink that dripped down the canvas -  _ love, loss, confusion _ \- the ends of the ink trailing together to create a rose petal, “This one's emotions are different but I still feel as though they are a reflection of the artist themself in the moment they created it.” 

He stopped, glancing at the boy beside him who looked interested in what Jisung had to say, glancing from the framed canvas to Jisung and back with a tilt of his head and a smile. 

So Jisung continued. He rambled over and over again on the topic of every painting to the boy next to him, slowly opening up as he cracked soft jokes now and then, eyes always on Jisung with a look of pride as he made the other laugh. 

Was he flirting with Jisung? Yes, Jisung decided as the boy sent a cheeky smile towards him, Yes he was flirting with him.  _ And Jisung was flirting back _ . 

He blushed at the thought, the two coming to stand in front of the final painting in the exhibit. 

But before Jisung could start his ramble, an older male with greying hair and bright eyes came striding over, a bright smile on his face as he stood in front of them. 

At first, Jisung was confused, but then the man spoke and horror filled him. 

“Ah, Mr. Lee! You did make it in to see the show after all!” The man reached out a hand towards the boy next to him, smiling even wider as the other took it, “Enjoying the placement of your pieces?”

The boy, Mr. Lee, smiled back, “The show is wonderful Mr. Seo. I’m glad I came, after all, you did an amazing job with the placements.” 

“I’m happy you think that way,” Mr. Seo grinned widely, pride in his eyes as he stepped away, “I do hope you consider us for future exhibits.” 

“Your gallery is on the top of my list,” Mr. Lee replied, bowing in goodbye towards the older man as he bid them both a quick farewell, already darting towards a high-class looking lady wearing a fur coat. 

They both were silent for second, realization hitting Jisung like a train as he looked towards the boy next to him with growing horror. He had been  _ ranting _ about the artwork to their  _ artist _ for  _ three  _ hours. He had been flirting with him! 

“I am so sorry-” Jisung started, eyes wide as he faced the boy, “Mr. Lee, I hope I didn’t offend you or-” 

The boy waved him off, “Please, Mr. Lee is my father. Call me Minho.” 

_ Minho _ . “Minho I’m so sorry for ranting and everything-” Jisung felt his ears turn red. 

But Minho just smiled at him softly, gesturing towards the last painting behind them, “Please, tell me about this one? It’s my favourite.” 

Jisung took a deep breath, refusing to look at Minho as he spoke. The painting itself was to put it simply, beautiful. It was bright, highlighted in white and gold. The image itself was of a boy without a face, it blocked out by larger paint strokes in brilliant reds and oranges, “Hope. The emotion I get the most from this one is hope. The colours...the paint strokes...the image itself depicts hope in its rawest form. Its hope for the unknown.” 

Minho was silent for a second, eyes looking over his own work before he turned to Jisung, “Would you like to go get a cup of coffee with me ...?” 

Jisung blushed when he realized he had never even mentioned his own name, “Jisung. Han Jisung.” 

Minho beamed, bright and brilliant and Jisungs breath caught in his throat, “Would you like to you go get some coffee with me Jisung? It’s on me this time.” 

Jisung laughed softly, “This time? Confident in the ‘next time’ aren't we?” 

Minho smirked cockily, holding out his arm for Jisung to take, “Shall we go?” 

“We shall.” Jisung giggled, in awe of the man beside him as the sun from a nearby window caught in the other’s eyes, making them glow. 

And even surrounded by some of the most beautiful art pieces Jisung had ever seen, at that moment, Minho was the most beautiful thing Jisung had ever seen. 


End file.
